


jυѕт ɴoт тoo cloѕe

by PluralisMajestatis



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Violence, Porn with Feelings, Protective Erik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PluralisMajestatis/pseuds/PluralisMajestatis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pink triangles were nothing but haunting to Erik. Oh, he had always known the meaning behind them just as the fucked up meaning behind the yellow star he once wore. He had promised himself that he would never ever wear those damn triangles, he feared them just as much as his own old sign of recognition. He was not gay, not the slightest bit and he was afraid of the day that he might discover things about himself that were hidden far too well. Sadly, that was the day he first met Charles Xavier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	jυѕт ɴoт тoo cloѕe

 

▼▼▼

  
  
Erik was used to being alone. He had always been alone for as long as he could remember. Of course not entirely lonesome, you can't be all by yourself in a concentration camp. Other inmates, guards and in Erik's special case: Shaw... People used to be around him all the time. Nonetheless: Erik had been alone. He had always fought for himself and his cause. Without any help, without any assistance.

He had killed for nobody but himself.  
  
Maybe... and only maybe... He had also done it for all the other jews, murdered in the concentration camps, but in the first place he had done it for himself. Hunted down all those monsters. Hunted them and erased the scum, in a vain attempt to feel better. All those men, not worthy of having a name, of being alive, of breathing. Erik remembered killing them one by one. Not gentle, not quickly. He had taken his time and it was so easy, even though a man like Charles – and his talents – might have made it a bit easier.  
  
Though... It's not too bad that he had been a loner for all of his life. There had never been someone who needed to be taken care of. Nobody but Magda. And Anya. He had failed them. A small blob of melancholy dared to submerge his thoughts. Pictures of his used-to-be-family rose from his subconsciousness, blocked his eyes, his mouth, his nose and his ears. It was hard to breathe. As always. Magda... Anya... So many things were supped to be different, could have been different if he had only been there. He could have saved them, he could have...  
  
Erik's fingers hardened around the wheel. The car was expensive, even if he had no clue about cars. He felt it. The metal was more delicate and the steering wheel had real leather on it. It was a useless luxury, just as every luxury there was. But that was not the important thing digging into Erik's mind.

The air suddenly became very thick. So thick that he wasn't able to breathe, to tell his lungs to work was they should. He felt like drowning all over again, only without Charles' warm arms curling around him.  
  
Never again. He new exactly what he would do normally. It's simple, a small ritual he became accustomed to. He'd drive to the side lane of the empty road they were following for the past couple of hours. The darkness had fully taken over the vehicle and it did not seem to find an end anytime soon. The last incident of another living being had been a deer a past couple of miles ago. He would – if he were still alone – leave the car and he would start to run. Just run, until his lungs were bleeding and he had to throw up.  
  
Throwing up was a better alternative in contrast to crying. He was Erik Lehnsherr and Erik Lehnsherr did not cry!  
  
Except for now.  
  
He had no way to escape the pressure of the car, he was not alone, he was not able to run away, not able to make the car stop. Screaming wasn't an option either, not even throwing up. There was no way to ease the pain of his failure. He had failed them. The two people he swore to protect. And the reason why he had to suffer like a madman sat beside him on the passengers seat.  
  
Small.  
  
Wrapped in a warm blanket.  
  
Only the thick brown curls were visible while the young man pressed his forehead against the windowpane, breathing softly.  
  
Charles Francis Xavier.  
  
Both of them were looking for mutants under the rule of the CIA. Erik wasn't that convinced if working for humans was that much of a good idea, but... Charles was right in one aspect: He really needed people on his side, he was in need of some friends – or something close to friends. Not enemies, that would be the most suitable description. As good as Erik was: He was not able to stop Shaw's league of extraordinary gentleman (plus Emma) all on his own.  
  
Charles sighed softly in his sleep, maybe startled by Erik's thoughts, yet still vast asleep. Not surprising, since he had been on drivers-duty for most of the day. Erik hat taken over the night shift after Charles' heavy lids had been falling faster and faster with every blink. And until they found a suitable motel it was up to Erik to drive. But plans were made to be foiled by sudden, unexpected and rare feelings. Erik hated being out of control.  
  
Charles must not see him like that. Charles must not see him at all.  
  
Erik would not deny that he had a strict opinion concerning the boy – he might be just three or four years younger than Erik, but still... he was nothing but a child to him – and said opinion could not be more ambivalent. On the one hand he respected Charles more than anyone before. Such a strong mutant, a borderline genius – not only in his chosen field. But on the other hand the boy could only be described as a spoiled little stripling, who had more smoke blown up his ass than the queen. Oh, a boy who had never endured pain... Charles was sunshine bound in a human body – a description that suited him well... And Charles was therefore not to be taken seriously in Erik's humble opinion.

But that wasn't the matter of the moment.  
  
The only thing that mattered was the fact that Erik's lungs had forgotten how to force air into them. The important and downright gruesome thing was the picture of Magda and Anya in front of his him. Oh, seeing them was nothing but torture. Closing his eyes was not help either, there was no escape. Erik wasn't aware of the curse the car took while his shaking hands moved the wheel slightly to she the side. He did not realize how close the car got to the trees on each side of the road. He was drowning, he was drowning faster than ever before.  
  
Charles did not either see the danger.  
  
Yet he felt Erik's racing mind and one arm fought its way out of his blanket-castle. Charles was always in need of an army of blankets and pillows even right now while the warm winds of spring made everything more durable. (He had never curled up into a ball, shivering and crying, while the frostbite took hold of him...) But no, the small little boy needed an avalanche of covers to make it through the night without freezing to death (or annoying Erik to death.) He was so fucking weak – physically speaking.

Charles reached into Erik's general direction, tapped him ever so softly on the shoulder. His fingers brushed slightly the warm skin. Just a small contact... Nothing, nearly nothing at all. A little but powerful firework was set loose inside of Erik. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, Erik said to convince himself. Fireworks were loud, smelly and destroyed other people belongings if they came to close. (But they were also beautiful, illuminating the dark night sky with more colours than they were before. They made people cheer, helped lovers getting closer... Fighting the darkness for some brief moments. Fireworks made the night pretty...)  
  
“Everything is... all right... Erik”, mumbled Charles quietly. A small shiver ran through Erik's body. He somehow managed to hear the words out of Charles' mouth but still... also in his head. Telepaths were creepy that's for sure. Erik would not want to exchange their powers. His own mutation was better, could be used in a more effective way...  
  
Whatever Charles did to him... It helped him. His subconsciousness relaxed quiet a bit and the pictures of his daughter and Magda slowly vanished from his troubled mind. His lungs stopped hurting, Erik was able to correct the curse of the car, seconds before they smashed into a line of trees. Oh, he felt all those dark memories crawling backwards into their homes, felt them disappear to attack him later again. It only took him half a second to battle Charles' hand away, which fell down and landed with a terrible profane 'plump' on the central console. “Thank you”, was all Erik mumbled, still staring straight on the street.  
  
Charles had to stop doing that... Touching him. Calming his thoughts! It wasn't right, just not right. Erik sighed heavily. Even though it was nice for a change...  
  
  


▼▼▼

  
Erik had done some hard work back in the days, but waking up Charles was one of the hardest tasks he had encountered. Raven had warned him, though. She had said that Charles was not very responsive to all attempts of waking him up. She had given Erik a detailed ten step plan for waking up that lad from his slumber. Only by following those steps in every minute detail he might have a chance in waking him up. And those ten steps were only for small naps. A full, long slumber was in need of a twenty steps plan.  
  
It was an easy decision – and fairly easy to spot that Raven was trolling him – to aboard at step four, which included a lengthy massage. He would not... just no. Erik was none to handle Charles with kid gloves. (Or handle someone else at all.)  
  
He just stood beside the open passengers door, his backpack hanging off of one shoulder. His eyes were trained on the small body of Charles', sunken into itself. He was not even able to open up his eyes. How the fuck did he survive that long? If Erik had dared to sleep like that, he would be dead by now or even worse, one of Shaws' willing puppets.  
  
“I'm being serious, Charles. Either you get up or I will lift that damn car and shake it until your lil' raisin ass drops to the ground!”  
  
Erik's voice was grim. Erik's fucking face was full of grim. His posture was grim. And even though everything about him screamed grim... He was fairly sure that Charles heard the small amount of amusement in his thoughts, since he chuckled quietly. “All right, all right.” he muttered, his voice heavy from sleeping. Nothing but a little boy.  
  
He waited impatient – Charles had to feel his growing impatience – while Charles tried to pull himself in nothing but agony out of the car. The blankets never never dared to leave his small body bare to the 'cold' of the night. Charles was really tiny. Like... incredibly tiny. Maybe it's just Erik's perception, since he had always been tall - and after he had escaped Shaw even muscular – but... Charles was a whole different story. So small. It was all to obvious when both men stood side by side. Erik was able to spit down on the brown curls. Not that he wanted to do such a thing... but he would have been able to do so. He choked down a smile, thinking about the tiny tiny Charles. In all the other occasions it was not visible, not recognizable that he was below average in case of height. He had such a presence, such a strong appearance that Erik sometimes forgot that Charles was not able to fill a whole room, since he was barley able to fill a corner.  
  
A property Erik never fully understood. He had trained nearly all of his life to blend into the shadows, to be unobtrusive... to appear as adjusted as human possible. And on the other hand was Charles... Pretty, sparkling Charles, drawing all the attention on his very person. Both of them were two sides of the same coin. Quiet similar, but always staring into opposing directions.

“It's not a pretty motel, but it should be suitable for a night.”  
  
Erik wasn't able to concentrate on the road anymore. His eyes were burning like fire and even though Charles' helping hand prevented the worst... Visions of his past family haunted his troubled thoughts. It was a hard fight, but he managed to control his thoughts – like he always did. But he wasn't sure if he could keep on the masquerade for much longer. He needed a good night of sleep or he would not be able to prevent his thoughts any longer from a powerful telepath such as Charles. If you are travelling with a telepath not even the most secure place in the world, was safe anymore – his head was outlawed. Only Charles' self-control denied him the access, nothing else. Oh, he had sworn he'd never set foot into Erik's mind but he can't be trusted.

Nobody was to be trusted.  
  
Especially not Charles who looked as harmless as a mouse.  
  
Charles gave him a confused look, before he threw his blanket back into the inside and grabbed his bag. Both of them were in the center of a small patio, surrounded by the most cliche motel he had ever seen. Several floors with every room separately for itself. The main building tried to attract customers with an ugly ass neon-sign saying that there are rooms 24/7 vacant. Charles sighed tiredly and rubbed those big blues of him.  
  
They would have excelled his eyes... back in the camps... they would have done it, Erik thought. Both of them moved slowly to the main building, while Erik's thoughts were still linked to the past. They liked to destroy pretty things. Families, feelings... and all over hope. And they would have destroyed Xaviers's eyes. Colours – which weren't blood red – were not liked by any of them. They would have picked his eyes out, would have laughed.  
  
Even though...  
  
That was a lie.  
  
They seemed to be in favour of yellow and pink. Yellow for the jews. It had been small star badge. Oh, he remembered sewing it onto his jacket, visible for everyone. And the pink triangles for all homosexual people. He shivered ever so slightly.  
  
His fingers cramped around the strap of his backpack. He always had nothing but the bare necessities with him. Or even less. Nothing special, the plainest stuff you could find. Charles on the other hand had so much shit in his bags... It was painfully obvious that he had never been on the run, had never hunted a man down. Was never the hunted one.  
  
Innocent little Charles.  
  
They entered the building without any sound and Erik was grateful as fuck. Charles had that annoying habit of talking to much. Oh dear God, don't get Erik wrong. He was fully aware that Charles was a bright man, one of the brightest he had ever encountered, that's not up for a debate. His thoughts and his knowledge about genetics and mutation are breathtaking and exceeded all Erik knew. He liked learning from Charles but... Erik had always been alone. Always.  
  
That's why he enjoyed the current silence more than he should.  
  
Erik leaned against the counter which was fairly dusted and stared at the young man at the reception. His eyes were bloodshot and it was painfully obvious that he was taking drugs.  
  
_He's no danger, just a human._  
  
Charles voice was soft and warm in his head, while the real-life Charles smiled fond into the general direction of the stranger. Erik decided to go with his normal and bland expression. They always did it like that. Since the beginning of their journey.  
  
Strictly divided roles.  
  
Charles was always on the watch, who might be a danger? Where is the danger? One small view into their brains and he was aware of their intentions.  
  
And Erik? Well, Erik made them... less of a danger, let's put it that way. They were a quiet good team.  
  
“We'd like to have two rooms for one night.” Erik's voice was as professional as always. He had to act quickly before Charles would spot the opportunity to drown in smalltalk. As Erik said it: Charles was a bright young man... But he had to learn the right times to shut the fuck up. He talked to much, trusted to easily. Even though nobody seemed to want to harm him at the moment... Those times were about come. He had to be careful but that's a gift that went missing on Charles. He trusted Erik... That had been his first mistake.  
  
“Two? Nah, not possible!”  
  
“What?” Erik snapped. “What do you mean?” The flickering of the light bulb above their heads nearly drove him insane.  
  
“Well, everything is taken...” Harsh accent. Erik shuddered. He himself had gotten rid of every accent there is. His English was as generic as it could be, while Charles still had his hang on the British accent – which was strangely pleasurable. But that lad over there? Erik's stomach revolted. He did not like that accent and he did not like what he was telling them.  
  
Tiredness had leaked into Erik's mind and he was still dizzy from all those unwanted memories and there was nothing sweeter in this world in that very moment than a damned mattress under his ass. He wanted to soothe his throbbing back and everything was shit – a fairly normal day in the life of Erik. “Everything?”  
  
“Eh... There is one room vacant. Ehhhh... Number 201.” Oh great. One room was still available. Erik thought quickly. He might be able to knock the man out, take over his quarters while Charles would be able to sleep in 201. It would not be the fist time for Erik spending the night with a bound and half unconsciousness man. He was just about to jump into the action, as he heard Charles say:  
  
“That's all right, we take it.”  
  
Oh...  
  
_Is that so?_ Erik raised a brow. Interesting.  
  
  


▼▼▼

  
  


  
Charles told Erik that the man did not think that they were a couple. He must have felt Erik's distress, when he showed him a mental image of his head. The way he had erased every suspect there might be. And indeed, it was calming for Erik, even though he would never admit it. He just wanted to avoid being in another fringe group. Being hunted down and brought to the dge of extinction was an event he would not like to happen again. He had lived through the holocaust, he will live through the war against mutants... That's enough fighting for a whole life. Even for a man who had adopted the style of living of a cockroach.  
  
Talking about cockroaches: Erik was fairly sure that he had seen some creep into the shadows as he lid the light in the small room. He would spent with Charles a whole night in that... little shoebox? No free space, no space for himself. The floor was brown, it might have had a different colour some ages ago. There was one big bed, a small television... A small bathroom was located on the other end of the room and fucking everything seemed to have a grey filter thrown over it. Erik blinked harshly. Nope. Still shit.  
  
“I don't care which STDs are waiting for me in that bed, but I want to sleep”, Charles mumbled softly and stumbled into the general direction of 'sleep'. He threw himself onto the mattress and Erik won't tell him that a huge cloud of dust rose into the air. (Or a cloud of dried sperm and... just disgusting shit.)  
  
“There's only one bed.” Erik's voice was dull, as he let the door fall shut behind them. He controlled the windows in one swift motion, all part of his routine. Always be sure that you have an escape route.  
  
“So what? I am small and I do not need a lot of space. I am travel sized!”  
  
Erik hesitated nonetheless. Sleeping on the ground was an option to him. He had spent some nights in far worse places. But... The same old problem: He had not had a chance back than. And he did not want to let Charles believe that he was afraid of sleeping in the same bed as him. He was Erik Lehnsherr! He had stood face to face with fear itself and became it!  
  
And nobody would see them.  
  
Nobody would be able to know...  
  
Damn, nobody would even think that Erik might – under any circumstances – had bin a suitable candidate of the pink triangle. Not even Erik himself.  
  
Nah, he wasn't interested in men, he did not even care for women. Shaw had taken all of his sexual lust and interest off of him. Magda's death had been the casket nail in the coffin.  
  
Erik sighed as if the world and the universe itself lasted on his shoulders, before he slumped on the bed next to Charles who beamed up at him. “If one body part of yours touches my side of the bed... I will push you down!”  
  
Erik would later on say that Charles soft snoring was nothing but consent. Charles would deny.  
  
  
  


▼

 

**Author's Note:**

> ( ƅ°ਉ°)ƅ
> 
> English is not my first language and I am not good at all. But I really wanted to try to translate an old(er) work of mine from German to English. Thanks to lehnsherrrs, who read over it and made the worst mistakes disappear :) I really hope you liked the first chapter, since the story itself is finished and just needs the translation :) I am always happy about any sign of life from your side and I hope you'll have an awesome week :D
> 
> http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/55318c2c000151c61399c4db/1/jy%D1%95t-%C9%B4ot-too-clo%D1%95e German Version.
> 
> http://funkneto.tumblr.com/ My tumblr :)


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